


long day?

by pacificnewt



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Hair Pulling Kink, M/M, NSFW, Trans Character, it’s what they deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacificnewt/pseuds/pacificnewt
Summary: The wait for him to come home is always worth it.





	long day?

**Author's Note:**

> this one goes out to my favorite sylar apologist ily

Sylar always thought Peter had nice hair. It was soft, a delectable shade of brown, and he adored the way it sometimes fell into his lover’s eyes when he didn’t try to push it back. Yeah, Peter had nice hair.

Nice hair meant Sylar liked to touch it. He liked to take Peter in his arms in the evening and listen to him talk about his day while dragging his nimble digits through its silk-like texture. He liked to play with it, swirl it around his fingertips, pull it into tiny ponytails and then release them. Occasionally he liked to pull it.

“C’mere,” Sylar cooed, arms already extended from the couch. Peter turned his way and almost giggled. He’d just come in the front door, always pleased to see that pain in the ass lounging around waiting for him.

“One sec,” he said smoothly, haphazardly throwing his things onto the table and kicking off his shoes. He still wore his scrubs and his tired eyes really completed the overworked nurse look.

Sylar adjusted himself on the couch when Peter trudged over, then gasped when he suddenly jumped right onto him. Sylar chuckled and situated Peter in his lap, back against his stomach. His hands darted right into his hair and Peter sighed and tilted his head back. “How was your day?”

“Long,” Peter said plainly. “Stressful. I feel like I could sleep for eons.”

Sylar wrapped one of his arms around the front of Peter’s waist and let the other rub circles into his scalp. It delighted him to feel Peter’s squirms against him, no matter how seemingly undetectable. “I missed you.” His voice was velvet.

Peter rested his hands on Sylar’s arm around him and closed his eyes. “Some days I swear I’d rather deal with a thousand of you than go back to work.”

With a sympathetic hum, Sylar gently curled his hand around a lock of the brown hair he loved so much. He whispered something about a remedy for a bad day and slowly but surely tugged on his hair.

Peter’s breath immediately hitched and he nearly jumped right out of his lap. Sylar pulled him even closer and softly pressed his lips to Peter’s neck, deft hands busier than ever gradually pulling harder on more of his hair.

“Sylar-“ Peter gasped, his breath thin. Without thinking twice he found his nails digging into the skin of Sylar’s arm, his face already red and flushed.

“Mm? Something wrong?” His words vibrated against Peter’s neck before he lifted his head and eased his grip on his hair. Peter’s hand flew up to push Sylar’s mouth back into place and Sylar smirked.

“You waited all day, didn’t you?” Peter sounded breathless, as though he’d just run a mile. He bit his lips and squeezed his eyes shut when Sylar pulled even harder. “God, fuck.”

His lover almost laughed, but he didn’t. Instead he kept one hand on Peter’s head and the arm around his waist untucked itself and found its way up Peter’s shirt. His cold hand glided across Peter’s chest and both of them groaned.

“Not all day, it’s been too long,” Sylar whimpered, his own attractions and arousal clouding his mind just as quick. “You’re always busy. I’m not used to not getting what I want.” Sylar’s hips slowly started to grind themselves upwards against Peter, who shamelessly moaned from the pit of his stomach. Sylar licked at Peter’s earlobe while his breathing became more and more ragged. “Now I want you, and what does that mean?”

“Sylar...” Peter repeated his name a few times while Sylar’s hand trailed further down his chest and played with the waistband of his pants. “Sylar, please-“ He cut himself off with a moan again when Sylar suddenly pulled hard.

“Please what, baby?” His lips moved back to Peter’s neck, this time teeth grazing the surface. “I asked you a question.”

“It means I’m yours,” Peter panted, not sure whether to grind against Sylar’s leg for friction or grind on the growing erection below him. “It means you have me, please, all of me, anything.”

Smiling, Sylar decided he was pleased. His hand dipped fully into Peter’s pants, his hand gliding over his wetness. Sylar moaned and Peter followed, lifting his hips into the air before they were forced back down.

“You stay put,” he demanded, voice alike a growl. Sylar’s hand trailed further into Peter’s boxers. He felt the man on top of him gasp sharply when his finger brushed against his clit then began to rub him agonizingly slow.

“More,” Peter pleaded, his voice hoarse and desperate. “I need more, Sylar, I need-“

“You’ll take what I give you, Pete.” Some days Sylar could get off on nothing more than talking Peter into submission. It didn’t take much, he had him wrapped around all ten of his fingers, though he savored it all the same. “Take it and be grateful and maybe I’ll consider fucking you all the way into next week, you pretty mess.” He licked a strip up from the base of Peter’s neck to his ear and Peter’s moan was guttural.

Peter’s hands were wild, everywhere, unable to stay in one position. He’d grab at Sylar’s thighs then at what he could of the couch and then at his own thighs. He breathed heavily through grit teeth, knowing better than to make a scene. Sylar wasn’t always one to finish what he started— Peter knew that all too well.

“You’re soaked,” Sylar whispered, fingers overly slicked. “So filthy. And all it takes is just a little...” He pulled at Peter’s hair once more and Peter nearly screamed.

“Please, please, I feel like coming already,” Peter groaned. His thighs were trembling, Sylar’s movements on him so smooth and delightful. Sylar paused, then pulled his hand up.

“Lay down.” Peter obeyed without a second thought. He leapt off of Sylar and Sylar stood, watching his lover lay himself on the couch quickly with a few short breaths. They made eye contact while Sylar licked his fingers, Peter flushing and allowing a quiet moan to fall from his lips.

He waited patiently while Sylar undressed himself all the while undressing Peter with his eyes. Once Sylar was done he began to tug off Peter’s bottoms both at once. Peter’s shirt was already halfway across the room.

“Eager, are we?” Sylar smiled and ran his hands up and down Peter’s thighs. Peter fluttered his eyelashes and exhaled slowly while Sylar climbed over him.

“Stop playing,” Peter whimpered before Sylar kissed him soft and pulled off.

“I don’t take orders from you,” he reminded with a drag of his nails against Peter’s skin. Peter gasped and gripped the side of the couch. “Play nice and spread.” Peter complied again instantly and spread his legs as wide as he could considering their spacial arrangement.

Sylar situated himself in between his legs, lips trailing kisses along the inside of his thighs. He sucked gentle bites into the soft skin before he stuck out his tongue to lick Peter where he wanted it most. Peter cried out in pleasure and Sylar mumbled a small, but quiet, “Good boy”.

While Peter squirmed and trashed under him, Sylar continued to work on eating him out. He had to hold back his own noises; tasting him on every inch of his tongue felt like heaven.

“I can’t- I can’t take more,” Peter cried, his back arching off the cushions. “I’m gonna... come!”

Sylar’s head snapped up and he licked his lips, his eyes meeting with Peter’s that were blown wide with need. He was gorgeous. “Not until I say so. If I’m here taking you all night and I don’t say you can come then you don’t come, understand?”

He moaned in disapproval and then again in disappointment when Sylar stood and went to retrieve the condom in his pocket. He slipped it on quick and easily, gave his aching arousal a few quick strokes, then jumped Peter’s bones.

Sylar always began little, much less than half of him. Peter was always awed at how big he was even though he always took it like a champ. Peter made a noise crossed between a groan and a scream once Sylar entered him, then sunk deeper and deeper into him. He could feel his heartbeat in his face.

“You’re so good, Pete, such a good boy. Look at you, so needy. Mm, oh, I almost forgot how good you felt, shit— so tight...” Sylar wasn’t quiet during sex. He liked to talk, and he loved to ramble. It was always sweet nothings, almost live commentary, feeding both Peter’s ego and his desire.

Peter attempted to regulate his breathing while Sylar pumped into him more consistently, his pace increasing in speed.

“Fuck, oh, Peter!” Sylar let himself go and allowed himself to whimper. He desperately leaned over Peter to grab at whatever hair he could, tugging and pulling in sync with his thrusting. Peter was completely unraveling below him.

“Sylar, Sylar, I need more!” His mouth fell open and he didn’t stop making noises, noises Sylar could listen to every minute of every day of the rest of his life and never tire of. “Please, harder!”

Sylar growled deeply and obliged, thrusting harder and still faster into Peter. Peter knew he had a rule to obey but couldn’t help his overstimulation— he had tears forming in the corners of his eyes and a painful buildup of pleasure in his abdomen.

At the height of his speed Sylar abruptly threw his head back and whined. He gave Peter’s hair one last hard and forceful tug then released. “Come, Peter, come for me!”

Right as Peter let his orgasm go, Sylar pulled out quickly and cried out as he came into the condom. Peter had Sylar’s name on his breath over and over again while Sylar breathed heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly. They both rode out their climactic highs and Sylar removed his condom to tie it off once his hands stopped shaking.

“Long day?” He murmured nonchalantly.

Peter grinned at him through half-lidded eyes. “I managed.”

Sylar chuckled and rose from the couch to dispose of his mess. When he returned Peter’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallowed out. Sylar stood for a brief moment to admire him in his post-orgasmic glory, then gathered him in his arms to take him back to bed. He kicked open their bedroom door, Peter in his arms, then lay him gently on their bed and shut the door.

After Sylar fought with the covers to tuck him in, he slid himself into bed next to him, arms wrapped around the smaller figure.

“I love you, Peter,” Sylar whispered. He placed a chaste kiss to his forehead then shut his eyes as well.


End file.
